No Hard Feelings
by LizD
Summary: Reposted By Request Complete AU Season 9 – Sans Mattie
1. Default Chapter

Title: No Hard Feelings 

Chapter One

By: LizD

Written November 2003

With Love and thanks to the cast, crew and creators of JAG.

Time Line: Season 9 – Somewhere in the middle (Ignoring Mattie and literally written after Close Quarters/Posse Comitatus). Harm and Mac are both back at JAG and their relationship is at a professional level at best – for now.

2015 EST – JAG Headquarters – Falls Church, VA 

Harm was working late, still catching up on the Imes' cases. He was in the copy room when he heard Mac's raised voice coming from her office. He loitered trying to determine if she needed a rescue. He heard her slam down the phone and then a loud thud as something was thrown at the window in her office. She had been on the phone; he could put his tights and cape away. He proceeded to gather his files to head back to his office. He averted his eyes and tried to appear invisible as he shuffled through the bullpen, but she caught him.

"I suppose you heard all that?" She declared across the empty office as she knelt down to pick up what was thrown.

"Not sure what I heard - sounded like a Hurricane." He smiled that smile.

She scoffed. "Men! Can't live with 'em, can't shoot 'em and leave their bodies in a ditch." She went back into her office.

He followed. "I hate to be the one to break it to you Mac, but men say the same thing about women."

"Bring it on." She called over her shoulder. "At least it would be a fair fight."

He leaned against the doorframe. "Trouble in paradise?"

"I am not discussing this with you."

"The spook getting spooky?"

"Harm!" She warned.

"Not ranking on the need-to-know-scale wearing a little thin?"

"Shut up."

"You brought it up."

She glared at him. "Fine – riddle me this Batman: why do men think they own you after – never mind."

"Come on Mac." He leaned baited her. "I've seen you in your underwear; we have no secrets. After what?"

"After - - -" She fought to find the words. "They make their objective."

He smiled an arrogant smile with a tinge animosity at being close to the ONLY man in her life who didn't 'make his objective'. "Well, speaking as the official representative of the entire male population – most men don't."

"Has not been my experience." She was sorting through the files on her desk trying not to pay him the proper amount of heed.

"Really?" He waited for her to respond. She didn't. "I thought the biggest issue for your kind was men and their commitment issues – or lack there of."

"With one obvious exception – that has not been my experience either."

"Nice to know at least one of us stands out in the crowd."

She glared up at him. "Do you even know what I'm talking about?"

He shook his head in disgust and pulled a dopey accent. "Well being as I just fell off the turnip truck this morning and don't know the players from Adam, I will have to venture a guess and say that you slept with Webb and now he is all over you like white on rice." He gloated. "Am I in the ball park?"

She rolled her eyes. "Mixed metaphors aside - maybe even on base – albeit crudely – but on base."

"Further than I've ever been before." He said under his breath but loud enough for her to hear. "However – there is a flaw in your logic."

"How did I know THAT was coming?" She was less than amused.

"What most men will do does not apply to you. - - - You are not 'most' women."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You are one of those independent self-sufficient females that are hard to hold on to, Mac – makes the male of the species – well most of them anyway – crazy. You play the ultimate HARD TO GET game and when you finally give in; how can you blame a guy for wanting to hold onto what he won fare and square."

"Won! It's all one big sporting event to your team, isn't it?"

"Well we don't all have the same colored jerseys and we don't all read from the same play book – but yeah - battles are all about winners and losers – and you put up one hell of a battle, colonel."

She raised her hand in a 'stop' signal. "We are not going to talk about this. Not me. Not you. Not this. Not now."

"Why not?"

"You're still pushing an agenda and I am done with that." She stated flatly.

"Agenda! I have no agenda." He was dripping with mock affrontery, "Other than as trusted colleague offering a soft ear in your time of need."

"Oh, bite me." She jeered.

"If only I could." That was too low for Mac to hear.

She heard something and whatever it was – was not nice. "Care to repeat that, navy?"

"I'm crushed." He put on his best hurt look. "You think I would ENJOY listening to you rail against your most recent embodiment of Velcro known as Clayton Webb?"

"I never said it was Clay and yes you would enjoy it – hell you would feed on this for days."

"You have too low an opinion, Mac." He grinned. "This is fodder for six months to a year."

"Don't you have work to do?"

Unphased he ventured on. "So is this just another a bump in the road or the end of the line for the colonel and the spy?"

She was frustrated. "Do you care?"

"I do. Of course I do. Not that your personal life makes a damn bit of difference to me – but you are a lot easier to work with when you haven't put the entire male population on report."

"A report that some males will never get off."

He stopped the play and hit straight at the heart of HIS issue. "You have something to hash out with me, marine?"

"You gonna fight back?"

"Don't I always?

"No."

"Well I won't tonight either – like shooting fish in a barrel."

She rolled her eyes. "Gotta take the 'cliché a day' calendar away from you."

"HA – so answer the question."

"Which one?"

"Is it over or just something else to get through?"

"Why do you care?" She snapped.

"Assume that I do."

She studied him for a moment. His expression was unreadable. She relented. "Fine - just to get you off my back – we're done." She paused to see his reaction. If he had one, it didn't show. "Happy now?"

"Are you?" She looked away. He dropped his antagonism for a moment. "You being unhappy does not make me happy, Mac." He waited until she looked up at him. "You Ok?" He said softly.

She glanced away. He was trying to be nice. "I'm fine. - - - I'll be fine."

"Well, I knew that much." He paused briefly. "You are nothing if not resilient – one of the things I admire about you."

"Is that the nicest thing you have ever said to me?" She barbed back at him.

"Quite possibly." He smiled. "No, I am sure I have said something about your eyes that was nicer – but that was a long time ago."

"A VERY long time ago." She brushed past him. "I'm going home – hot bath, pint of Ben and Jerry's and all will be right with the world." 

"That's all it takes to get someone out of your system? Hot water and ice cream."

"Works like a charm."

He followed after her. "Poor ol' Spooky Clay – 60 gallons of water and a pint of ice cream away from being a memory. That has got to be a hit to the ego."

"Well if it makes you feel any better – ran through the flavor list and at least one hot water heater on you."

"Should I be flattered?"

"No – turns out I was PMS." She hit the down button again.

"Is that what you really want to do?"

"What? Go home and immerse myself in Vanilla Heath Bar Crunch and bubbles up to my neck?"

"You bet."

"While I am enjoying that visual – " He scanned her up and down. "Really enjoying that – wouldn't you rather do something a little more proactive?"

"Like what?"

"Let's do something."

She looked at him suspiciously. "Why?"

"Why not?"

The elevator arrived and she got in. "Not a good enough reason, Rabb. See you tomorrow."

He stopped the doors from closing. "Come on, Mac. We used to be friends."

"We still are – to a degree."

"So come on – we'll go do something – just a couple of old friends."

"What would we do?"

"I don't know – a movie, a run, we can go play miniature golf if you want."

She thought about it and it didn't feel right. She shook her head. "No, not tonight – maybe another time."

"So you are just going to go home and lick your wounds, feel sorry for yourself and dive into enough sugar to put you into a diabetic coma."

"That's the current plan."

"Women!" Harm let go of the elevator door and walked away.

She followed after him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"Come on – no secrets – I have see you in your underwear too."

He turned and grinned, mostly grateful that he was able to engage her in this little tête-à-tête. "Well -- You are quick to blame all your problems on men – and tomorrow morning when you wake up pruny, five pounds heavier with a sugar hangover you will blame that on men too."

She didn't want to grant him his point, even though he had one. "So what do men do in this type of situation?"

"Well – most men go out, get drunk and pick up another girl – woman - female."

"Goodnight Harm."

"But I am not most men." He stopped her. "I usually play a little one-on-one."

"So now you are suggesting we play basketball?"

"No, there would be no contest. I'd have to tie one hand behind my back."

"Should do that anyway."

"But I do have an idea that any marine worth her salt could not turn down."

"I'm all ears."

"Not from where I'm standing."

"Knock it off, sailor."

The Cheshire cat grin almost prevented him from continuing on. "I defended the training officer at Quantico – Lieutenant Petrie. He runs the obstacle course among other things and told me about THE TOWN."

"THE TOWN."

"Yeah, it is a mock up of an Iraqi town - search and destroy type training."

"And."

"Well, I say we go head to head."

"Excuse me."

"Do the town – as they say. Just you and me and a little capture the flag with M16's."

"Live ammo?"

"Ha – no – blanks."

"What fun is that?"

"Alright - how 'bout paintball?"

"Paintball?"

"Yeah, less deadly than live ammo and much more gratifying than blanks – they sting and leave a nasty mark."

"You are asking me to play paintball?"

"You game?"

"You do know I am trained for this."

"Well I haven't been sitting home making model airplanes."

"All evidence to the contrary." She was thinking about it seriously. "Can we get in at this time of night?"

"You bet – Lieutenant Petrie owes me – kept him out of the brig."

"One on one – head to head – just you and me – and a couple of projectile weapons?"

"Sounds like a dream come true, doesn't it?"

She thought for a moment – "Should we bet?"

"Will it make it more challenging for you?"

"It would."

"What's the bet?"

"You choose, I have no intention of losing."

"Loser has to be nice to the winner."

"Nice?"

"Nice – no rude remarks, no snappy come backs, no innuendo – you know NICE."

"For how long?"

"A month."

"You couldn't do that for a month."

"A week."

"Why don't we just do dinner?"

"Chicken."

"A week. - Alright, fine."

"Fine?"

"Fine."


	2. 2

Title: No Hard Feelings 

Chapter Two

By: LizD

Written November 2003

With Love and thanks to the cast, crew and creators of JAG.

MacKenzie Residence 

Harm made all the arrangements and picked Mac up at her apartment. She met him outside dressed down in tight black – head to toe.

"Mrs. Peel, I presume?" He scanned her up and down – no curve, hump or bump was left to the imagination.

"I was thinking more along the lines of The Catwoman." Truth to tell, she liked that he found her attractive and planned on using that to her advantage.

"Where's your whip?"

"Never mind the whip, you need to watch the claws."

"Prepare to have them clipped, pussy cat."

"Colonel Pussy Cat to you, commander."

2109 EST – THE TOWN – Training Facilities – Quantico, VA 

Harm and Mac were being given final instructions by Lieutenant Petrie.

"This is just a game – search and destroy. The clock will be running – game is normally called in ten minutes, but I'll give you two fifteen. So there is no sitting and waiting it out. First to a kill wins. Kills are in the torso area alone. Remember – those paintballs are traveling at high velocity – they will leave a mark. Therefore body shots are encouraged – extremity and headshots are considered cheap. Wear your masks and gloves at all times. This is an honor game – if you are hit – you are out."

"Can you handle that, MacKenzie?"

"I got it."

"Just checking in – don't want you to whine when you break a nail."

"Listen – FLYBOY – you maybe hot shit at 30,000 feet – but I'll be all over you on the ground."

"Trying to scare me or turn me on?"

"OK, OK – 'trash' talk is over." Lieutenant Petrie rolled his eyes. He was not impressed with these two. A couple of lawyers with guns? Please, it would be more interesting watching paint dry. But then again, watching Mac in that cat suit was worth the extra duty. "I'm the ref and I will be watching. Go to your starting positions. Depending upon how good you two are – we could get in maybe three or four rounds before the Special Ops team arrives."

"You have people coming in this late?"

"They don't know it yet – they should be getting the call in about an hour."

Mac and Harm went to their respective starting positions. The lights were turned out and then on. The game was on.

**Round 1 (2:03 - Mac): **Harm took the direct approach down the west side of the main street. Mac climbed to the roof on the east side. Within minutes she had him in her sights. She took aim and fired. SMACK – square in the chest. Harm never heard it coming.

"Break a nail, commander?"

"Lucky shot, colonel." He said wiping the paint off, refusing to show how much it really stung.

"Well hell Harm, my hopper is full – could keep going all night."

"One for you colonel." He nodded and they went back to their starting positions.

**Round 2 (1:06 - Mac):** Again barely sixty seconds went by and again Harm was shot and he was out. This time, he had advanced on her rather quickly, but she had taken cover behind a car. Her first shot missed, and gave away her position. He fired and dove to get his cover but was taken out before it was secured. This time she hit him a little lower – in the abdomen.

"Not as easy as it looks, eh Harm?"

"Just want you to feel like you are doing well."

**Round 3 (4:49 - Mac):** This time Harm was able to out maneuver Mac for nearly five minutes until eventually he came up behind her – told her to drop her weapon. She turned and fired. Harm was out.

"Hey?" He called to the lieutenant. "Is that fair?"

"If you don't want to shoot the girl, commander; I suggest you don't confront her."

Mac was grinning ear to ear.

"Of course you know – this means war." He whispered to her.

"Bring it on."

Round 4 (6:36 – Harm)   
Round 5 (3:29 – Harm)   
Round 6 (5:18 – Harm)   
Round 7 (7:25 – Harm)   
The next four rounds went to Harm. It wasn't easy and he was using every bit of training and strategizing he could possible think of. He was working up a pretty good sweat too. He tried not to gloat too much. As much as he enjoyed winning (and would not consider letting her win), he really didn't like the idea that he was hurting her. In that last round, round seven, he hit her pretty high in the chest. She was visibly forced back by the paintball. She even let out a cry.   
"Mac?" He came over to check on her. "Maybe this game was getting too rough." he thought to himself.   
"I am fine, Harm." She unzipped her top to survey the damage below her collarbone. It hadn't bruised yet, but it was going to be a nasty one. "Guess I won't be going strapless anytime soon." She laughed. 

"Too bad, thought you could take me to dinner when this is over."

"Who is taking whom?"

He grinned. He took a hit from his water and offered her some. "Need a break, milady?" He jibed.

"Don't patronize me." She took the water and nearly drained it.

"We could quit now. I think we are even." He said.

"No sir." Said the lieutenant. "You just went one up on the colonel."

She shook her head. "Do we have more time Lieutenant?"

"The way you two are playing – sure we have lots of time."

"Back to your position, flyboy." She pushed the water bottle back at him. "Watch your back."

"Paybacks are a bitch?"

"And so am I." She gloated.

"I love it when you get hostile."

**Round 8 (3:35 – Mac)**

**Round 9 (5:09 – Harm)**

**Round 10 (2:18 – Mac)**

**Round 11 (4:54 – Mac)**

**Round 12 (6:16 – Harm)**

**Round 13 (4:45 – Harm)**

**Round 14 (7:32 – Mac)**

The games were getting longer and involved a great deal more strategy. After ninety-some minutes and fourteen rounds, the win/loss column was even. Mac had the shortest kill time and Harm broke the course record for the longest evade time (seemed logical knowing them). The lieutenant was going to put an end to it. The games were even. Both Harm and Mac looked like they had gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. Nothing visible, expect the paint, the sweat, the dirt and the fact that they were moving slower than they had been when they started. They were using muscles that they had not used in a long time (that included their wits). I must also mention here that they were having a blast. A total blast.

The last round was announced. "Games are tied, sir, ma'am. But I'm sorry. Need to turn the field over to the real marines." He said. "Major Dawson and his group are here." Harm and Mac looked up and noticed that the lieutenant was not alone.

"I think we have time for one more – need to break the tie." Said Dawson. "Wish my guys did as well as you two."

**Round 15 (3:54 – Mac)**

The timer was reset and Harm and Mac took their starting positions. This one was going to be a full bore, all out, head to head. Harm came after her with renewed strength. Mac dipped and rolled and tracked him like the pro she was. In the end Harm zigged, when he should have zagged. He was able to get off a couple of shots, one hit her in the leg and another in the arm. But she won the round. She nailed him once in the upper thigh (a little close to the family jewels), once in the butt and one hit him right in the numbers. He was out.

Final score Harm 7 – Mac 8 

Harm and Mac limped out of the town. Each has more than one sore spot but they had a great time and they didn't really care anymore who won and who lost. The bet was all but forgotten – for the moment.

"Congratulations, Colonel."

"You surprised me too, Harm." She wrapped her free arm around him. "Guess you are not ALL talk." She grinned – generous now that she was the declared winner.

Major Dawson met them as they exited. "Sir, Ma'am, excuse me, you two are lawyers?" He handed them each some water.

"From the JAG corps." Harm said. "Colonel MacKenzie and Commander Rabb."

"Major Dawson." He returned the introduction. "I wonder if you would be interested in helping me out."

"Got some legal troubles, major?" Mac asked.

"No ma'am. But my team has been training against each other for so long it is impossible to tell if they would know how to react with anyone else. They need to go up against somebody that they don't know and can't predict." He nodded to them. "You two have some pretty unique strategies."

"Legal wrangling teaches you a whole new game." Harm said.

"You want us to go up against your team?" Mac said. She looked a little worried, she was more than a little tired and it was getting fairly late. Both Mac and Harm had court in the morning.

"I have a team of six. I would break them up into pairs and go two on two. Or if you like, I would give you two of my guys and go four on four. After a break. I send them through a couple of times. Let you two catch your breath."

Harm and Mac looked at each other. "You up for this?" She asked. She looked like she really wanted to do it. Some how this little game of tag had unleashed Mac's aggression in a very interesting way. Harm loved seeing the fire in her eyes (usually reserved for when she was spitting it at him in the court room).

"I am. However -." He pulled her off to the side. "We have to do this as a team – you and me – no outsiders."

"Agreed."

"Can I trust that I won't get shot in the back?" He smiled.

"I'll watch your six, navy. Trust me."

He grinned. "Actually, let me watch yours – it is better looking and you lead better."

She almost choked. "Wish somebody were around to hear that."

"You know I'll deny it in court – well not the better looking part."

The challenge was accepted. The six members of Dawson's team were brought in after they had run the course a few times.

"Hey." Said Marine 1. "Who's the skirt?"

"Maybe she is the damsel in distress we have to rescue." Marine 2 chimed in.

"Spoils of war, gentlemen." Said the third one.

Mac was amused; Harm was not. "Gentlemen, I suggest you give the lady every respect or I can guarantee, you will not make it out of the town in one piece."

"Who are you, her body guard?" Said Marine 4.

"Her agent – she'll delight in kicking your ass and I'll delight in watching." Mac was gratified that Harm came to her defense this time by believing that she could take care of herself. It was different for Harm.

The marines all made 'ohing' and 'ahing' noises.

"GIRLS!" Major Dawson silenced them. "Let me introduce Colonel MacKenzie and Commander Rabb, JAG corps. They have agreed to act as adversaries in our next set of games tonight."

"JAG corps? We are playing against lawyers?" One whispered to the others.

"They gonna file briefs on us?"

"Probably write us tickets."

Harm and Mac nodded to the marines and left to take their positions. Now they were both more than excited about this game, if only to shut these young punks up.

"You gonna play hero, Harm?" She asked just before the game started.

"No, that's what they will expect me to do."

"So, you are going to be the bait?"

"Would you take it?" He said suggestively.

Her eyes softened. "I'd think about it."

He brushed some hair off her face. He eyes softened too and his look was full of the mixed messages that Mac knew very well. "How long would you have to think?"

The lights went out. And then back on. The game was on. They both secured their masks and with very few actual words being spoken they made a strategy. Each had learned the others (and their own) strengths and weaknesses in the rounds that they had played. Each had silently determined how best to take advantage of those attributes to win as a team.

Rounds were played. They more than held their own, in fact they – well their side – was able to get the drop on the marines four times out of six. Three times Harm sacrificed himself in order for Mac to finish them off and once they both survived. The other two times they were killed pretty quickly. This of course impressed the marines and they fought that much harder.

A final round was declared. It was to be a time game, all Mac and Harm had to do was survive ten minutes. They were deployed in the town and dug in. First two marines would enter to seek them out. Three minutes later another two were deployed regardless of the marines still 'alive' and again three minutes after that the final two were sent in. In the end it could have been six on two, but all they had to do was stay hidden to win. Harm and Mac had a different strategy.

The game began. Mac took out marine 1 before he ever found cover. Marine 2 came up on Harm's position. Harm took a shot to the leg but was not killed. Marine 3 and 4 entered. Mac dropped back and flanked them. Harm drew fire and Mac took them out. Marine 2 was still alive, but his whereabouts were unknown. Marine 5 and 6 entered from a totally unexpected direction. Harm and Mac had to scramble to regain safe ground. It was a second floor apartment. They were now trapped. The marines were closing in. Harm climbed out the window and waited. Mac played dead. Marine 5 and 6 entered from the hall. Mac's ploy worked. Harm appeared in the window, took out Marine 5 and distracted the other long enough for Mac to take him out with two quick shots. Across the street Marine 2 came out from hiding. He shot Harm in the neck. It took him by surprise and he fell from the window to the dirt street below. It knocked the wind out of him. Mac appeared in the window worried about Harm's fall. She was taken out with a shot to the chest. She fell back into the room and tripped over one of the Marines. Harm rose from his position and took Marine 2 out. GAME OVER. They won five out of seven. The marines they played against had a new respect for lawyers.

The fall from the window was not so much damaging as it was just really hard on Harm's joints and muscles. The shot to Harm's neck was not intentional by the marine, but it broke the skin and needed some first aid. Mac managed that. The marine that shot him was very apologetic.

"I am really very sorry sir."

"Don't give it another thought, I am going to tell everyone that the colonel gave it to me in the heat of passion." The men laughed and Mac was not amused.

She pressed her hand into his upper thigh – on the spot where that paintball nearly turned him into a soprano. He winced. "I'll lay claim to this one, Harm."

"I'll bet." He tugged at the zipper on her shirt, which still remained completely zipped. "How are you doing?"

"Like I said." She unzipped it to reveal a massive bruise growing that looked like a little bullseye. "No going strapless for me."

"Mac – that looks bad."

"No so bad. It is this one that hurts." She touched her ankle.

Harm leaned down and pulled up her pant leg. The skin was also broken there, and her ankle was beginning to swell. He changed seats with her and tended to her ankle.

"Are you sure you two are lawyers?" One of the marines asked.

"You think we sit around discussing statues all day?" Harm defended.

"The commander is still a pilot – flying F14's and I have had more than a few opportunities to go TAD."

"This is the military, kids. Primary directive is to defend the country no matter when job you have."

Major Dawson thanked them for their time. Mac and Harm agreed to clear the extra time on the course with the base commander – not that it needed clearing, but when it got back that two JAG lawyers were hurt during a training exercise it would not go well for Dawson or Petrie.

0156 EST – MacKenzie Residence, Georgetown, VA 

Harm was helping Mac up to her apartment. They were laughing and joking and recounting the battle stories. They were both covered with dirt and paint and sweat. Neither one had had so much fun in years – at least not together and not with their clothes on.

"So are we going to say I won?" Mac laughed.

"Do you need to say you won?"

"Well, you saved my butt out there a couple of times."

"It was an honor and a privilege, colonel."

"OK, OK – if that is you being nice, forget it. Take me to dinner and we will call it good."

"I will." He laughed. "As soon as you can walk again."

"Walk? Hell, I am worried that I can't drive. Nice field dressing though, Hammer."

"Needs to be changed in the morning – should I stay and do that for you?" He grinned.

"I'll manage." She smiled. She liked that he was playing with her again. There was even a little part of her that wondered what he would do if she accepted one of his innuendoes. And the larger part of that little part was hoping that he would not back away if she did. But she wouldn't - at least not tonight. "Can't believe you fell from the window." She laughed. "I thought you were a goner."

"No, just my back. My chiropractor is gonna kill me." He stretched.

"You need to take something for it – Advil or something."

"Was actually thinking about that bathtub of yours."

"Stand in line, sailor." She elbowed him gently.

"Not into sharing?" He said lustily.

"We could ----." Mac stopped in mid-sentence (isn't that always the way?) and followed Harm's gaze to her open doorway. Webb was standing there.

"Clay." She was shocked. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you." He looked at Harm and there was disgust in his eyes.

"Webb."

"Rabb."

Harm looked at Mac. Clearly she didn't know what she was supposed to do. Harm took charge. "Well, looks like you got it of from here, Colonel. I better get home. I got a hot shower with my name on it."

"Do you want that Advil?"

"Nah – think bourbon is gonna do the trick."

She really didn't want him to leave, but there was actually no way to ask him to stay. Webb was immovable. Harm let go of her as soon as she steadied herself by the door. "Thanks, Harm." She nodded sadly to him. "That was a lot of fun."

"We make a hell of a team."

"We do." She laughed. "I am glad you are on my side, most of the time."

"I'll watch your six, any time, any place, colonel." He looked at Webb and then back to her. "Need a ride to work in the AM?" Indicating her ankle.

"I'll be fine."

"OK. See you tomorrow." He nodded to Webb. Webb did not nod back.

Harm limped down the hall and Mac watched until he was out of sight. She turned her attention to Webb. "You shouldn't be here." She said and she limped past him into her apartment.


	3. 3

Title: No Hard Feelings 

Chapter Three

By: LizD

Written November 2003

With Love and thanks to the cast, crew and creators of JAG.

**0913 EST – JAG Headquarters – Falls Church, VA**

Harm was in his office working through the stack of Imes cases. It wasn't much fun, but he was still paying his dues. Mac limped in.

"Harm, do you have the Andrews file?"

"Well, if it is isn't Quick Draw McKenzie."

"Harm, I need that file. I have court in an hour and I need to get it to Bud."

He pulled the file from his credenza and handed it to her. "Not even enough time to say 'Good Morning' to the man that covered your butt and nearly sacrificed his ability to procreate for you?"

"Good morning." She said gruffly and opened the file. "This is the Andrews file." She snapped and waved it at him.

"That's what you asked for, Colonel."

"Lori Andrews not Lana Andrews."

"As not to be confused with the Andrews sisters." He smiled. She tried to wipe that smile off his face with her look. His GOOD mood was really annoying to her BAD mood. He reached over to another stack on the corner of his desk. He let out a little groan at the stretch he had to make. "What's the matter Mac, Webb's snoring keep you up all night?"

"You know what Harm, I have had enough of you and your adolescent comments. From now on, my personal life is off limits to you."

"Was it ever ON LIMITS?"

"When I was stupid enough to – forget it." The quick turn on her ankle sent a shooting pain up her leg.

"HEY!" He stood up.

She paused to let the pain ease.

"If you woke up on the wrong side of the spook – don't take it out on me!"

She slumped down in the chair and leaned down to rub her ankle. He looked down and noticed that the bandage that was put on was falling off. He came over and eased himself down. She tried to brush him away but he stopped her with his hand.

"Harm, I don't need a nursemaid."

"You need a corpsman. Did you do this yourself?" He was not being very gentle.

"Yes." She said and restrained a groan as he wrapped it up tightly.

"Did you put ice on it last night?"

"I don't want to talk about last night."

"What part: before, during or after I kicked your ass in paintball?" He taunted.

She knew he was goading her to get her mind off of the real issue and the pain. She tried to get up but he kept her in the chair. "I need to get this file to Bud."

"Sit, colonel." He barked. He reached over and picked up the phone. "Bud? The Andrews file is in my office; bring some ice and a towel down here when you come to get it. - - - Yes, NOW, Lieutenant."

"I have court." She protested.

"And you are prepared. Put your foot up." He picked her leg up roughly and put in on the second chair. Bud entered with the ice and a towel. Harm exchanged them for the file and dismissed him before Bud had a chance to ask about Mac's ankle or the huge bandage on Harm's neck.

"You think if you are nice to me I will confide in you?"

"No." He made and ice pack for her ankle. "I really don't give a rats behind what happened between you and Double 'O' Fool last night."

"Right."

"I just thought you were done making the same mistakes with the same man."

"Present company included?"

"Present company never stood a chance."

"Present company never took a chance."

"But the secret agent man? Yeah, I'll bet he's a real closer." He took his position behind his desk.

She shook her head. "You have no clue what you are talking about."

"I don't?"

"It is not what you think." She tried to tell him.

"If you need to lie to yourself to make it easier to look me in the eye ----."

"The sheer arrogance - - - the conceit - - - the superiority that just drips off you is astounding."

"Astounding?"

"Has it ever occurred to you that people – a lot of people, myself included – have lives that do not revolve around you?"

He mock thought for a second. "No."

"Why does that not surprise me?"

"Look, Mac. I thought our little paintball party got us through this kind of garbage. If you don't want to let go of your issues with me – there is nothing I can do about that."

"Oh, but you are over all your issues with me."

"I am trying to talk to you about your boyfriend, aren't I?"

"Anything I say will be used it against me."

"Do you believe that I would throw THE SPY WHO LOVED YOU in your face?"

"Every chance you got."

"How can you say --?"

"Should we count how many times in the last five minutes?"

He leaned back in his chair, shook his head and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry." He paused. "You are right. I am not being a very good friend." He paused again and waited for her to look up at him. "I guess - - - I don't know. I just think you can do better." He smiled. "Consider me the older brother you never had." Of course his feelings were not motivated by 'brotherly love.'

A serious look came over her. "No." She said softly. "No, I don't think I want to do that."

He was confused. "Mac?"

"Look, it really doesn't matter."

"Actually it does matter." He said. "You are clearly upset about something, and I want to help."

"Super Rabb."

"Just trying to be a friend, Mac." He paused. "We had fun last night."

"We did."

"So whatever put you in this mood, happened after I left."

"It has nothing to do with you."

"Yet, here you are taking it out on me." He tossed his pen down on his desk. "I'll admit that I have made mistakes, but does that mean I get to be the punching bag for every bad experience you have with men from here on out?"

"You admit that you made mistakes?"

"We are not talking about me."

"Actually I thought we were."

"Now who has the problem with the world revolving around me?"

"AHHHHHHHHHH." She screamed reservedly. "YOU DRIVE ME CRAZY."

He laughed. "Feel better?"

"I'd feel better if I had you in my sights and my hopper was full."

He nodded and rubbed at one of his many bruises. "What happened last night?" He said softly. "Come on, you know you want to talk about it."

"Actually I don't."

"Webb wanted to kiss and make up?"

"Harm – let me give you a piece of advice – if you are trying to be nice - don't be such a jerk."

"Point taken." He waited. "So?"

She half relented. "It is not what you think."

"So set me straight."

"Webb and I – we are not – you know – it is not like what you think - between us – we are not -."

"Can't you even say it?"

"We are not sleeping together." She blurted out.

He nodded. "Is that the problem?" If he was delighted to hear that Mac and Webb weren't 'doing the nasty,' he didn't let on. (He was delighted to hear.)

"Part of it I suppose – for him."

"So what 'objective' were you referring to last night?"

"Do you remember everything I say?"

"Damn near."

"How sad for you."

"You got that right." He said under his breath. "So?"

She struggled looking for the right words. "He – well I – well -." She took a deep breath and blurted it out. "I told him how I felt."

"How you felt?"

She gave him a snide look. "Yeah, Clay and I talk about things like that."

"And look how well it has turned out for you two."

"Forget it, Rabb!" She started to get up.

"Sit down, colonel." He was slightly annoyed. "So, you told him how you felt. And?"

"And he misinterpreted."

"Well, I'm confused. You told him that you didn't want to be with him and he misinterpreted that as you did?"

"Not exactly."

Harm looked up. "Your honor, I would like to have this witness declared hostile."

"Stop it, Harm."

"WHAT?"

"I told him I had feelings for him and he thought they were more than they were." The part Mac is leaving out is that that declaration was coupled with a declaration that she did NOT have feelings for someone else – namely Harm. The part that Mac hadn't yet accepted was that those declarations were not exactly the truth. They were more like the truth as she wanted it to be, but wasn't.

"You are a lawyer Mac – you know how important words are especially to a spy who will twist them for his own agenda."

"Harm – please, if I needed a Monday morning quarter back I would call Howard Cosell."

"He's dead, Mac."

She dropped her face in her hands. "You are relentless."

"So that's it?"

"Look – it is that simple. I told him how I felt. He – took it the wrong way. I had to set him straight and that is the end of it."

"It didn't look like the end of it for him last night."

"Well some men just don't know when they've struck out."

"Some men never see the pitch until it's behind them."

"Some men wait for the perfect pitch and strike out anyway."

"Some men don't know they only have one inning at bat."

"Some men never bother to dress for the game."

"Some men just want one more chance to get off the bench."

"Some games are over before they start."

"There is always another game, another season ---."

"And other players." She stopped the banter.

He looked at her and swallowed hard before he spoke. "I'm sorry, Mac."

"For what: Clay, my ankle or something else?"

He looked down and away. "I am sorry for a lot of things."

"Regrets? Coming from the great Harmon Rabb?"

He stood up and picked up the files on his desk. "I'm going to be late for court." He started to walk out.

She stood too, put a little weight on her ankle and then a little more and nearly fell. He caught her arm. They were inches apart. She looked into his eyes and he into hers.

"I'm sorry, Mac." He said again his voice full of a seriousness that she was unfamiliar with. "You deserve better." He made sure that she was stable on her feet and left.

"From who – Clay or you?" She said softly to herself.

Bud came in with his cane. "Ma'am we are due in court. I thought you might need this to lean on."

Mac laughed at the irony – all these men around her and no one to lean on. Bah – she was better by herself anyway.


	4. 4

Title: No Hard Feelings 

Chapter Four

By: LizD

Written November 2003

With Love and thanks to the cast, crew and creators of JAG.

No Hard Feelings 

**1238 EST – JAG Headquarters – Falls Church, VA**

Harm had given his opening arguments and called the first of two witnesses. It was going well and he should be able to rest his case in the afternoon. Mattoni was defending. Ham knew that when he rested, Mattoni would ask for a continuance. It was a bad strategy, but Mattoni would rarely listen to reason when Harm was involved – usually to his client's detriment.

Harm had just stepped out of the courtroom for lunch when Coates approached him. The admiral wanted him and Mac in the office ASAP. Mac was already in her office when Harm arrived looking for her.

"Mac?" He said softly.

She was on the phone. She looked up and put a finger in the air to indicate that she needed a moment.

He wasn't sure what kind of reception he would get from her. It wasn't really a fight this morning, it was a banter session, but she appeared to be growing tired of the same old banter and, if push came to shove, he would have to admit that he was too (even though he started it 75 of the time). Bantering with Mac outside the courtroom kept him sharp and on his toes and there was an element of fun. Mostly it kept them connected – if not in love in aggravation, but after all these years it did seem to be wearing a little thin. Maybe she was right in Paraguay. Maybe the need to win, beat, best – be on top of – the other both physically and emotionally would always be at the heart of any relationship they had. So it was probably best to not take it down 'that' road where real regrettable, unforgettable, unforgivable damage would be done. Better to leave things as they were – banter and all.

He meant what he said. He was sorry – sorry for her. He still wasn't quite sure what happened between Mac and Webb, but he was sure that she deserved better from Webb, from men in general and probably from him as well – but he couldn't really put a finger on anything he had done 'wrong.'

She hung up and her slight smile let him know that this morning had been forgotten or at least was going to be ignored. "Mac, you ready?"

"What does the admiral want to see us about?" She asked.

"Not sure."

Standing at attention in front of the admiral they were interrogated, dressed down and pretty much belittled about the 'training session' they had at Quantico the night before. The damage was surveyed – at least the most obvious damage. The admiral was not amused and apparently the base commander at Quantico was not either. Military training facilities are not a playground and were not to be used as a therapy session, they were told in so many words. In the future if they want to 'go head-to-head' they should join a gym and battle it out in a ring where civilized people do it – and keep the U.S. Government out of it.

"Yes, sir." They echoed.

They were dismissed. Before they were able to get to the door, the admiral asked who won.

"The colonel – 8 out of 15." Harm said. He thought he saw a smile cross the admiral's face but dared not to mention it.

"That's where I would have put my money. Carry on."

When the door closed behind them they each shot each other a glance. It was too priceless. They laughed.

"Lunch?" He smiled.

"Can't." She snapped a little too defensively, then relenting she added, "I have some errands I need to run. Rain check?"

"Sure."

They limped out together oblivious to the entire JAG staff taking note.

**1746 EST – JAG Headquarters – Falls Church, VA**

Harm was cleaning off his desk for the night. He had gotten out of court a couple of hours ago with the continuance requested by Mattoni. Harm was not on top of his game that day so he did not fight the continuance as vigorously as he would have. He was also confident that the case was already won so let Mattoni have his posturing.

The phone rang.

"Rabb - - - Admiral Boone, how are you, sir? - - - Very well thank you. - - - Yes, sir. We should do that soon. What can I do for you, sir? - - - Your niece? - - - Tonight? - - - Where? - - - Yes, sir. It would be an honor. - - - I will pick her up at eight. - - - Here? - - - When? - - - Yes, sir. Of course. - - - Thank you, sir."

Harm hung up and threw himself back in the chair and closed his eyes. All he wanted to do was go home and lay low. Between what was going on with Mac, the paintball fallout and court that day – he was ready to shut it down for at least twelve hours. But now he had to take Admiral Boone's niece to some congressional reception that evening. Which meant his dress whites, bad champagne, dancing and being pleasant to a woman he had never met before. Sometimes he wished he were not so 'good' at events like this; that he was not such a 'safe date,' a 'presentable escort' for relatives of admirals.

He checked his watch. He didn't have time to go home and change before – he checked his notes – Deirdre Norman was set to arrive at JAG. He would have to stop on the way, which meant bringing her into his house. The whole discussion of his renovation – blah, blah, blah. God – he hated this. Maybe he could get Bud to go pick up his uniform. No, Bud was still in court with Mac.

"Hey." Mac's voice brought him back to current. "You awake?"

He looked up. Mac looked different – not like the friend, partner and sometime adversary he knew inside out, but like a beautiful exotic creature that he would want to know intimately. There were times when he looked at her he did not see the uniform, the fine legal mind and the razor sharp tongue of hers. He saw an alluring, fascinating, necessary woman – a complete woman – not just the sum of her parts. The feeling only lasted a moment, but it was not the first time he had it and it always left him a little on guard.

"Harm?"

"I am." He managed to spit out. "How was court?"

"We won." She said with a cocky air.

"Not surprised."

"You?"

"Mattoni got his continuance."

"Not surprised. You weren't prepared for that?"

"I was. I just didn't care. The case is in the bag; he is just wasting my time and the courts. The judge won't be happy. The worst part of course is that he is giving his client false hope that he can pull a rabbit out of his hat, which means he won't consider the deal."

"Not your kind of lawyering."

"Not yours either."

"Maybe we should try all cases." She smiled. "Rotate prosecuting and defending duties."

"Eternal adversaries? Seems appropriate." He smiled back.

"We'd do well for the service."

"We could certainly clean up the navy and the marines."

"Would we need a judge?"

"Only for show."

"I think we ought to take it to Chegwidden."

"Oh, yeah. That's an idea long over due." He smiled at her. "How's the ankle."

"Good." She leaned on it and did not show any signs of pain.

"Must have been the expert medical treatment you got."

"Must have been."

She had not said anything nasty to him yet. "You are in a very good mood."

"I am. Winning makes me very generous with the world."

"Me included?"

"When I have a mind to. And I have a mind to order pizza and rent a movie – you up for it?"

"Is this an apology?"

"Do I need to apologize for something?"

He smiled. "No – just thought maybe." He looked away. "You need a ride home, don't you?"

"I could call a taxi."

"Don't I owe you a dinner?"

"We are going to wait until it can be done right."

"You mean cost me a chunk of change."

"That too." She smiled.

"Ok. So tonight is on you. What movie?"

"We are not watching Top Gun again." She laughed.

"Ha. What movie?"

"Maybe something old. 'His Girl Friday', 'Brining Up Baby', 'Philadelphia Story.'"

"Something with Cary Grant apparently."

"You know me and tall, dark, handsome men."

"Careful Mac, you are getting dangerously close to giving me a compliment."

"I'll be more careful." She cocked her head. "So are you up for it?"

"Sure. I get to order the pizza."

"We'll get two."

Harm looked down at his desk and saw the notes he took from Boone. "Oh, no. Mac, I'm sorry I can't do it tonight. Can I have a rain check?"

She looked disappointed. "Sure, I guess. We keep passing it back and forth."

"Bad timing."

"Have a hot date?"

"Actually, yes – well yes and no. I am taking Admiral Boone's niece to some congressional reception."

"That sounds dry at toast." He nodded. "Have you ever met the niece before?"

"Don't have to. They are all the same."

"That is a little presumptuous – even for you."

"No, not really. They are always young – too young and in awe of the uniform, but violently liberal. They have an NPR knowledge of politics and the role of the military and use me as an example of how dysfunctional the system is in the United States. How could I – such a good and decent man – possibly consider serving my country so loyally and with such risk to my own personal safety when there is so much wrong with it? Doesn't my government owe me – and the thousands like me more? Then, of course, there is the breakdown of the ribbons and medals and lots of gushing and shaking of the head over each one. And the incessant giggling and pawing. It is ludicrous. It is like going out with Dr. Jekel and Miss Hyde."

Mac laughed. His arrogance at times knows few bounds. "So why go?"

"When an admiral makes a 'special request'?"

"Enough said. Well, with any luck she might be nice to look at."

"I am not counting on it."

Just then Coates entered and told Harm that a Ms Norman was up in the bullpen looking for him.

"Let the giggling begin." He said as he stood up. "Sorry, about tonight. Looks like you get Cary Grant all to yourself."

"Might fall back on plan B."

"B?"

"Actually I guess it was plan A. Still have the pint of Ben and Jerry's and a hot water heater begging to be drained."

"I envy you."

He preceded her to the bullpen. There was a drop dead gorgeous leggy blonde woman waiting for him. She was not the fresh young co-ed Harm was expecting; in fact she was very close to his age. She turned and flashed him a smile that made him go weak in the knees.

"Still envy me?" Mac whispered to him.

The woman walked up to Harm put out her hand to shake. "I am Deirdre Norman, Tom Boone is my uncle."

"It is a pleasure to meet you." He said still a little stunned.

"I am sorry to put you in this position, Commander."

"Please, call me Harm."

"Harm, I am obligated to go to this reception – work related – and the 'safe date' I had, came down with the flu."

"That is quite alright Miss Norman. I had no plans this evening." Mac cleared her throat. Harm remembered his manners. "I'm sorry. Deirdre Norman, Colonel Sarah MacKenzie."

The women shook hands and exchanged greetings.

"So Miss Norman - ."

"Deirdre, please." She corrected Mac.

"Deirdre, what is it that you do?"

"I am a lobbyist for Northrop Grumman."

Harm's eyes lit up. "Northrop Grumman? They built the F-14."

"One and the same." She smiled. "Yes, Uncle Tom told me you are a pilot."

Mac smiled. She knew Harm's night was made. It was hard to get a word in edgewise after that, but Mac excused herself anyway. Now a little more disappointed that the evening turned out as it did but trying to be generous in the knowledge that Harm would have a great time. Her generosity failed when she saw Harm escort Deirdre out of the bullpen without a glance back. She might need to pick up another pint - Cherry Garcia or Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough - no wait - Karamel Sutra. That ought to solve all kinds of issues or create a few more.

1823 EST – Congressional Reception for Military Appropriations 

Harm and Deirdre walked in. The evening was going far better than he expected. He and Deirdre were perfectly matched. They had similar interests and agreed about everything from politics to wine to cars to music. It was amazing to him that he could be that in sync with anyone, much less a woman. The fact that they were rapidly running out of topics to agree on, had not occurred to Harm yet. He was focusing on her smile, her eyes and ease with which their conversation moved from one topic to another. While she was hardly flirting with him, she did find him funny and laughed at his jokes. He was already making mental notes about where to take her on their second date.

He hadn't forgotten about Mac, he just didn't remember. Isn't that Harm to a tee?

The first person that Harm recognized was Webb. He was off in the corner in a private conversation with two very congressional looking people and his mother (we don't want to know exactly how close Webb and his mother really are.) Eventually their eyes met. They regarded each other with silent scorn.

The next person they met threw Harm for a loop and destroyed all his fantasy plans for the future. They ran into Captain Lance Norman – Deirdre's husband of fifteen years. He was tall – as tall as Harm – and blonde and blue eyed. He and Deirdre looked like Barbie and Ken when they stood up next to each other. The captain was not expected to be in Washington (hence the reason for her needing an escort) but was able to make some adjustments and viola – he was there. Now Harm was unnecessary.

Although invited to stay and join them for a late supper, Harm felt like a third wheel and excused himself. Before he reached the car a familiar voice, one he hoped he would not deal with for a while stopped him.

"You destroy everything you touch." Webb said. "You are going to destroy Sarah too?"

Harm was not in the mood. He turned and glared at him. "I have kept her safer than you have?"

"You are pretty proud of yourself aren't you?"

"At times."

"Let her go Harm. Let her be happy."

"I have no hold over Mac, she told you that herself."

"I know what she told me – and I know the truth."

"She gave up you because of you – I had nothing to do with it."

"Does believing that help you sleep at night?"

"What the hell are you taking about Webb?"

I won't subject you to the pissing contest that followed. It would be hard to glean anything from the words they said to each other. But for the benefit of the readers and not the players I will tell you exactly what Mac gave up and the truth of where the reasons lie. Webb of course talked unchecked because he assumed that Rabb was in the loop on this. Not very spy-like, but he was a man with a broken heart. You see, Webb asked Mac to marry him. She said no. That will be about all that Harm will get out of Webb (particularly because he had to pretend like he knew more than he did). But what he didn't expect was that Webb would blame it on Harm. It was Harm's fault that Mac lost another chance at happiness. Men will be men and women get to watch.

Is that enough for you, dear reader? No?

OK. The real story – soup to nuts – is this: After Paraguay and Webb got out of the hospital, Mac and he spent a lot time together – dinners, lunches, he brought her home to meet his mother. Harm was out of the picture as he was flying for the CIA and not anywhere to be found. Webb did not talk about him and Mac did not ask. During that time, Mac and Webb often talked about their relationship – past and present. Webb again confessed that he loved her. She responded in kind. Webb asked about Harm. Mac responded that her feelings for Harm were complicated – at best – but that there would never be anything more between them. They had come to an agreement in Paraguay. This gave Webb hope. They continued to date – nothing more serious than dating and an occasional kiss good night.

About the time that Harm was being asked by the admiral to come back to JAG, Webb asked Mac to marry him. It was very romantic and very sweet, but Mac had no intention of marrying a man like Clayton Webb. Her reasons were very rational: she would not marry and have a family with a man whose profession was so erratic, dangerous and top secret. How could she possible hope for some semblance of normalcy with a man who could disappear at any moment, lie to her and be lost with no explanation? How could she explain that life to her children? That was the practical reason. The other issue was that she was not IN LOVE with Clay. She loved him. She cared about him. She enjoyed his company to a degree, but that was all. She did not want to be with him 24/7 (when he was around long enough). She told Webb this and he offered to give up his job – or at least the foreign assignment portion of his job. She refused. She never again would ask or expect a man to give up anything of him self for her.

Things got a little strained after that but they were working through it. Then Harm came back. Webb felt that Mac was now colder to him, more distant. He felt her pulling away. The night of the paintball party he called Mac and gave her an ultimatum – marry him or it was over between them. Well, you can imagine how Mac reacted. That was the hurricane that Harm heard. Of course Webb ignored all the practical reasons for Mac's refusal and attributed it to her unresolved feelings for Harm. That was the nail in Webb's coffin. The phone was slammed down in his ear, and when he showed up at her apartment that night, he was not welcome and treated to more of the same. The fact that Harm and Mac came limping up the hall together was more fodder for Webb, and yes he tried to use it in his argument. Sadly, Webb cut off his own nose to spite his face. Now who's the fool? Mac and Webb were over.

So, now gentle reader – now that you know Mac's side of the story – can you see why she might have arrived for work a little annoyed and why Harm might be a likely target for her "bitchiness"? Again, she had to take care of herself and could trust no one to respect her decisions at face value. It gets very lonely for a single woman over thirty particularly when surround by arrogant men.

So now what did Harm do? All dressed up and no place to go. He was released from his obligations for the evening. He had information that he knew Mac did not want him to have. He had no idea how he felt about what he was told, but Webb's accusation weighed heavily on him. Was he really ruining her life? Did he really have that much influence in her decisions? He couldn't believe it, but a part of him – that gigantic ego sized part of him - did. A rational, reasonable, normal adult man would have gone home and trusted that Mac was an adult woman with her own mind and could make her own decisions. As Mac's friend – best friend and self-appointed 'big brother,' he should have gone home.

He went home. He changed. He paced.

2034 EST – MacKenzie Residence, Georgetown, VA 

He didn't stay home.

Mac was just getting out of the bathtub when the knock came to the door. She slicked her hair back and put on her big fluffy robe. She looked through the peephole and was shocked to see Harm. She half expected Webb. She thought that she would have to have at least one more round with Webb before he would finally take NO for her answer. But Harm? No way. He was out on a date with the woman of his dreams. She couldn't have been more perfect for him if he had order her from a catalogue. Mac didn't expect to see Harm for days – weeks. She smiled and opened the door.

"So what happened to Ms. Right?" She asked.

"MRS. Right." He corrected. "Mr. Right showed up."

"Damn, ain't it always the way?" She stepped back and let him in. "All the good ones are taken."

"Not all of them." He said too softly. "I took a chance that you chose plan A and have not eaten yet."

"Not yet."

"Pizza?" He pulled out his cell phone. She nodded. "What do you want on yours?"

"Italian sausage and Pepperoni."

"Do you know what they put in sausage and pepperoni?"

"Harm!" She scolded and nodded to the bedroom. She was going to change into sweats.

He ordered two – one for her and one for him.

When she came back he was looking out the window. "So what do we do now?" She asked slightly amused at having him in her apartment. "I didn't get the movie."

"We could talk."

"You want to talk?" She was suspicious.

"Yeah, we never talk any more."

"There is a reason for that."

"There is a reason for everything."

"I would agree with that."

"Sometimes there is more than one reason."

"OK."

"And sometimes there only appears to be more than one reason, when one reason really is not a reason at all – it is just someone else's impression of what the real reason is."

"How much have you had to drink?"

He shook his head. "Or maybe what is stated as NOT the real reason, really is the real reason."

"What are you talking about?"

"Never mind." He stayed quiet and she waited. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know. Work?"

"No, have had enough of that all day."

"What do you want to talk about?"

"We had fun last night didn't we?"

"Yeah." She was still suspicious. "You want to talk strategy?"

"No." He was unsure how he was going to lead the conversation to where he wanted it to go. "Do you ever think about where you'll be in thirty years?"

"I expect that I will be retired."

"Or how you'll get there."

"Harm?"

"Do you ever think about getting – well – you know – married?"

"What?"

"Married."

"To who?"

"Whoever."

"Do you?"

"Not lately." He shrugged. "Well, I guess lately - yeah."

"Really?" She was confused. "Where is this coming from?"

He laughed nervously. He couldn't believe he brought up marriage with Mac. "Remember that baby deal we made?" Oh, yeah. That's a much safer topic. "Coming up on the close of that deal."

"I think it is safe to assume that that contract is null and void." She stated flatly.

"Why do you say that?"

"Harm we can agree on a pizza to order, do you think we could agree on how to raise a child?"

"Pizzas are not kids."

"I rest my case."

"So you are backing out of the deal?"

She looked at him suspiciously. "In light of our recent past, I think it is a good idea that we don't pursue that course of action."

"So you have changed your mind, you don't want to get married and have kids."

"With you?"

"NO! With anyone."

"I never said that."

"If you keep turning down offers --."

"Turning down offers? Were you making me an offer?"

"No."

"What offer have I turned down - ?" It all of a sudden occurred to Mac that Harm knew something. "Rabb – tell me what you know." She demanded.

He was caught. "Webb was at the reception tonight."

"WHAT?"

"He thought I knew." Harm couldn't believe he was defending Webb.

"Even if you did, especially if you did , what right do you two have discussing this?"

"He thinks you turned him down because --."

"I know what he thinks."

"Is he wrong?"

"Harm, I have made my feelings perfectly clear. In Paraguay and here – nothing is going to happen between us. End of story."

"But you do have feelings for me?"

"Homicidal feelings most of the time." She was livid. "I can't believe this."

"You can understand why I want to know."

"No, Harm I can't."

"I don't want to be the reason -."

"GET OVER YOURSELF!" She snapped. "You say you are my friend and then you talk about me like I am --- I don't know what. Like I am some stupid girl who doesn't know her own mind."

"That is not true."

"Look, Harm – you need to come down on one side of the fence or the other and stick with it. You can't have it all – or you will wind up with nothing."

"What does that mean?"

"You say you are my friend, and then you throw out all this innuendo, double entrendre, comments that are not appropriate when talking to a friend."

"Like what?"

"Like sharing a bath? Like staying overnight to wrap my ankle? Should I go on?"

He shook his head. "I was just playing with you."

"It is not appropriate."

"You seemed to enjoy it." She shook her head. She really couldn't deny it. He got flustered. "I don't know how to be with you Mac." He blurted out. "You run hot and cold. It is enough to drive anyone crazy."

Mac remained on the offensive, even though she knew she was losing ground. "You need to get a handle on it. We agreed -"

"Actually we didn't – you made a statement."

"And you did not argue."

"So that's it?"

"That's it for that. We still work together and we still can have a version of a friendship, but until you get your feelings in check – it is going to continue to be a struggle."

"So, this is all on me."

"I didn't say that."

The doorbell rang. The pizza had arrived. Harm threw the door open, tossed forty dollars at the delivery man and walked past him down the hall. Leaving the pizza guy stunned.

Mac followed. "Where are you going?"

"Away from here."

"What about pizza?"

"Lost my appetite."

"Harm, don't leave mad."

"The only way I can leave you, Mac."

He stormed down the stairs. Mac looked at the delivery guy and shook her head.


	5. 5

Title: No Hard Feelings 

Chapter Five

By: LizD

Written November 2003

With Love and thanks to the cast, crew and creators of JAG.

"The only way I can leave you, Mac." His parting words.

- -

"Harm, don't leave mad." She called after him.

"The only way I can leave you, Mac."

- -

Mad?

Leaving Mad?

Was he MAD?

No, he wasn't MAD.

He might have been annoyed, vexed, cross, exasperated, bitter, offended, heated, irate, displeased, or resentful.

Yes, he might have been any of those things. But what he was not – he was NOT MAD.

Why did he feel that way? She wasn't his girlfriend. She wasn't his lover. Hell, she was nothing more than a person whose life had intersected his for the last eight years. Intersected? Hell, she crashed into it broadside. Tomorrow he could walk away and there would be nothing that ensured that their lives would ever intersect again. He had waited two years – more than two years – after that fiasco with Mic Brumby. Waiting for her to come around. Should he wait any longer? Nope. Not any more. He wasn't mad; he just wasn't going to wait it any more.

His state of un-maddenness forced him to make a decision; a decision that he would normally NOT make. He was going to do what men – most men – do when a woman has pissed them off for the last time (remember though, he was not MAD). He was going to go out, get drunk, pick-up another woman and get back in the game. Yep, that was the current plan.

Step One: He pulled into the parking lot of a known 'target rich' environment, strode into the room like the cock of the walk, sidled up to the bar, ordered three fingers of Jack, drained it and ordered another. He turned his attention to the room and surveyed the 'targets.' He locked in quickly. He had her in his sights: flowing blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, brimming with youth, stupid as a stump (from what he could tell across the room – who knows she might have been a rocket scientist, but not with those fingernails), and clearly easy (read: interested in him). He got the 'eyes' from her. He returned them with his best 'come hither' smile.

Step Two: Send the lucky lady a drink. He did. He watched as the waitress approached to take the drink order. The giggle was a little too loud and a little too long. No matter. He saw her make 'the move': she sauntered to the ladies room with two of her companions, which of course gave him a perfect opportunity to appreciate her entire form – head to toe – and start to wonder about her when she was out of sight. She was thin, very thin, skinny as a rail one might say. She would probably break under pressure, but Harm could be gentle – if he had to be. Why her? Why her when the environment was to full of other likely candidates? She was so different from – well she was just different.

Step Three: She was back at her table and nodded her 'thank you' for the drink; which was followed by a hair flip and the lip pout. She was primed; he was ready. Time to meet her. He hadn't done this in a while; quite a long while, but it couldn't have changed much in ten years, could it? He swallowed hard and started to make his move. Go over, talk to her, flatter her and hang on her every word until it was time to "go."

"Sit down, Rabb." A voiced called from behind him.

He turned and no one was there. Hmm. That is strange. He thought he recognized the voice, but he couldn't place the name. He shook if off and turned his attention back to the lady in question. Again, he moved to get up –

"Don't do it, Rabb." The voice came again and was coupled with a firm hand on the shoulder pulling him back into the stool.

Again, Harm turned and no one was there. He caught his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. He looked pathetic and stupid and like a middle aged man about to start his crisis. That young woman had to be fifteen or twenty years younger than he was. What was he doing? Picking up a woman in a bar? He hadn't done that since – well, ever – well not ever, but not for fifteen or twenty years. And if memory serves it was not much fun then either.

"You ARE pathetic." The voice came again; he recognized it now and where it was coming from. It was his own, and it was coming from inside his head. "How can you make a play for her – this blonde piece of fluff? It is so shallow, so meaningless, so base. You don't even know her name and you are already planning breakfast. And what would happen tomorrow? And the next day? Is this the way you want to enter into a relationship or is she really just a one-night stand? Please – you don't treat women that way. You know better than that. You don't treat yourself that way, just cause you are MAD."

HE WAS NOT MAD!

Harm drained his glass. Nodded to the woman and walked out and walked home - alone.

_TIME: Unknown_   
_Location: A Boat on a Storm Tossed Sea_

"_Put it down, Harm." She shouted. "Put down your weapon."_

"_Put yours down." He shouted back._

_Harm and Mac were the only two left on a boat in a raging storm. They each hung on to the opposite rail of the sinking vessel with one hand and in the other they held a weapon. There was one lifeboat left. It was going to take the two of them working together, to un-secure it and lower it into the water. They could not accomplish that with weapons in their hand, nor holding on to their safe positions._

"_Harm, we are going to die out here if you don't put down you weapon and help me with this."_

"_Can't do it, Mac."_

"_You don't trust me."_

"_It is not a matter of trust."_

_A giant swell hit the boat and drenched them both again. Mac choked a mouth full of seawater and Harm was nearly pushed over board._

"_We can't stay here like this." She cried when she was able to find her breath._

"_Agreed." He said. "Put down your weapon and come to me."_

"_You come to me."_

"_This is no time to argue with me."_

"_Then come here."_

"_Mac, I am stronger than you are."_

"_I can take care of myself."_

"_We are both going to die if you don't let go."_

"_If I give up this position I'll slip off the deck."_

"_I will catch you."_

"_You can't with a weapon in your hand."_

"_Trust me!"_

"_It is not a matter of trust. You can't guarantee me that you will not let me fall."_

"_What is your suggestion?"_

"_Edge over to the center of the rail. I will meet you and together we can get the lifeboat in the water."_

_Harm reviewed that suggestion. He shouldered his weapon and started edging toward her. His hold was not that good. _

"_Harm, lose the weapon."_

"_We may need it." He continued his movement. _

_His statement scared her and she looked around to see if there was any reason to believe that he was right. Would they need their weapons? Mac started edging toward him, but did not shoulder her weapon. _

_Another wave crashed into the hull. Mac lost her hold on the rail and was pushed sideways across the deck. Harm reached out his free arm to grab her. He caught her hand and prevented her from sliding overboard. He pulled her to the rail as another wave crashed into the boat. He lost his hold. Mac had regained hers. He slid to the edge of the deck and barely caught the rail. His weapon had slipped over his shoulder and was sliding away from him. He dove toward it and nearly had it in his grasp. The boat shifted and he slipped overboard. He was still hanging on to the edge, he was almost was able to re-secure his weapon._

"_Harm!" She called after him._

"_I think I can reach it."_

"_Harm forget the weapon." She leaned over the rail. "Take my hand."_

"_I can reach it." He said._

"_HARM! Take my hand." She ordered._

_A final wave crashed on deck. Harm was forced to let go by the sheer force of the wave and the rocking of the boat. He was lost. Mac tried to maintain, but with only one hand, she lost her grasp. She slipped over the edge of the deck and into the icy water below._

Mac woke with a shout. She was safe in her own bed.

**1336 EST – JAG Headquarters – Falls Church, VA**

Mac did not have court that day. Harm did. They had not seen each other, except a very distant, very quick glimpse in the hall.

Harm had gone home that night before and made a decision. Harm is nothing if not disciplined. When he made his mind up – it was done. Most of the time, particularly with Mac, he chose NOT to make up his mind. This time was different.

If he assumed that Mac was right; that there was never going to be anything more between them, then there was no reason to struggle any more. If there was nothing to win there, was no reason to compete. They had each proven worthy adversaries and of equal skill, now the battles just became exercises – some were won, and some were lost, but nothing was gleaned from each experience. There was nothing more they could learn from the other. Goading her, teasing her, ribbing her, provoking her in anyway – professional, personally, emotionally – was just not profitable, and it ceased to be fun. It was wasted effort, wasted time, and wasted energy. So he wasn't going to do it.

So what now? They worked together. There was potential for them to work very closely together – TADs were not unheard of. There were also the mutual friends, their godson and the office social gatherings to consider. Should he treat her strictly professionally? No, that would be a strain for everyone. Should he just declare 'no hard feelings' and be her friend? That seemed like the logical way to go.

But what kind of friend? To try to be her 'best' friend, to try to stay connected to her in a more intimate level without the intimacy, would get really murky. As a best friend he would care about her and expect to be cared about in ways that no one else in their lives would. He would have a concern for her safety and happiness. He would be forced to have an opinion or discuss what was in her future and whom that future would be with. As a best friend he would be expected to support her decisions – decisions about men and career. He couldn't do that; he could not take himself that far out of the equation and be that dispassionate about some one he felt so passionately about – particularly if that passion was not reciprocated – as she contended it wasn't.

He could continue to be the ex-best friend and spurned wannabe lover – but that role was getting old. He was getting too old to play it. He just looked petty and foolish. There were too many fingers pointing back at him. They each made mistakes. To keep those issues front and center was just silly. It wasn't helping either one of them move forward. It just kept them stuck in the past.

So all that was left was open to him was a casual friend. A casual friend you can have lunch with, dinner with, talk about the weather and other newsy events with – but not so close that you discuss feelings – personal feelings. That would be harder to pull off, but it was really the only thing to do. He just had to suck all the passion from his dealings with her. He had to drop the innuendo, the witty repartee, the double entredres. He had to stop goading her and allowing himself to be goaded. He wasn't sure how he was going to do that – but part of it had to be 'acting as if.' If you act as if something is true – then eventually it will be. Right?

Would he have to apologize? Yes, yes he would. Did he really believe he did anything wrong? No, no he didn't. But to make a clean break, to start on this new tact, he needed to apologize for what came before. That would be the first order of business. Be cool, be casual, be nice and suck it up and apologize.

The judge broke for lunch late. Mattoni's continuance netted nothing. The judge was not pleased and pushed on through until the point where they could turn the case over to the members. It was in the bag, which meant that Harm would have nothing hanging over him for the weekend. He planned on taking his bike out and riding until the wind in his face cleared the crap out of his head. The weekend could not come soon enough for him.

The inevitable encounter with Mac arrived. Well actually he pushed it. He went looking for her after court.

"Hey." He poked his head insider her office, making sure not to come in and sit down.

"Hey." She replied warily. She was in her office going over some case notes.

"Sorry about last night." He said earnestly but with no tone like he wanted to continue the conversation. "I am."

"OK." She nodded.

"I still owe you that dinner, are you up for it tonight or should we push it to next week?"

"Tonight?"

"I am headed out of town tomorrow and I may take Monday off, depending upon when the members return their decision."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, gonna take the cruiser out. Let the wind in my hair – so to speak."

"Yeah." She was leery. Didn't know where this whole conversation was going.

"So should I make reservations for tonight or next week?"

She thought for a moment. "Next week."

"Good." He smiled nicely and excused himself.

JAG Headquarters, Falls Church, VA

The Next Three Weeks

What followed in the next few weeks was a major transformation in Harm. He was in a good mood with everyone. Not baiting or teasing anyone – even Turner. His arrogance quotient dropped measurably, but there was still a light in his eyes that enjoyed besting people. People noticed – a lot of people noticed. He and Mac were assigned a double murder investigation of two Petty Officers in Norfolk and had to spend a lot of time traveling back and forth, working through lunches and dinners. It got easier as time went on to 'just be nice.' Occasionally Mac would say something with a design and intent to rile him, and he would acknowledge the comment but not respond in kind. At first Mac was a little put off, but soon came to realize that this is what she had asked for. She had asked him to back off. He did. Be careful what you wish for colonel. For all intents and purposes everything was fine. It was not as much fun, and there really was no spark or fire – but it was fine.

Mac started getting an odd feeling that the people at the office thought that the change in Harm was brought on by her. People – the admiral included – assumed that our heroes had finally gotten together (biblically); and he had chilled out. It was just a feeling that she got. People would talk about Harm in a casual fashion with her. Harriet would ask when Harm was coming in or where he had gone to lunch. Bud would ask if he could bring them dinner even though they were actually working in separate offices. The admiral would treat them as a unit – but that could have been because of the case and for no other reason. Turner would feel that it was important that Mac know that he and Harm would be playing basketball after work or tell her the next day how many points he really won by. Little stuff like that. Things that people would talk to her about her 'boyfriend.' I guess it brought them into the Harm/Mac loop but still kept the 'don't ask, don't tell' understanding firmly in place. To be fair, Harm was getting the same treatment, but he did not see it for what it was – at least he didn't see it as a bad thing – unlike Mac.

**1746 EST – JAG Headquarters – Falls Church, VA**

Harriet entered Rabb's office with some files he had asked for.

"Sir."

"Thank you Harriett."

"Sir, what are you and the colonel doing on Friday?"

"Not sure."

"Bud and I are having a party for Mikey. It's his birthday. Nothing fancy but the food will be good and the beer will be cold."

"Sounds like fun. I'll check with Mac."

"Great." The admiral bellowed from his office for Harriet. She got a little panicked.

She turned to walk out and Mac was standing in the doorway. "Excuse me Ma'am, the admiral is calling – ask the commander about Friday."

Mac was annoyed. She entered his office and controlled her voice. She did not want to close the door. "OK, enough is enough."

"What?"

"She thinks that we are -."

"What?"

"She thinks that we are – you know – together."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"She thinks that we are – together – involved – DATING."

"No she doesn't."

"Yes she does."

"So what?"

"You let her believe it."

"What possible difference could it make?"

"That kind of gossip gets around."

"So?"

"So, you encouraged it."

"How did I do that?"

"By not setting her straight."

"She asked if we were free for dinner on Friday. I said I didn't know, but that I would check – how is that a -."

"She thinks we are together – you let her think that we as a couple would decided to attend or not."

"So?"

"I don't want people to get the wrong impression. We work here Harm."

"I see." Harm was beginning to feel very slighted. Down right hurt.

"You must see that we will be the subject of gossip, rumors and innuendo."

"I must?"

"So you must know why you have to nip this kind of thing in the bud. We work here."

"You said that." He looked disgusted. "You are upset because they think we are - - -."

"BINGO."

"This bothers you?"

"YES - It doesn't bother you?"

"Well I clearly don't find it as insultingly offensive as you do. I didn't realize how damaging both personally and professionally having your name linked with mine could be."

"I never said -."

"But in deference to you – I will set them straight." He walked out of his office up to the bullpen. "Excuse me, may I have everyone's attention?"

"Harm, don't do this." She touched his arm.

"No, colonel. You are quite right, this can't go on for another moment." He turned back to the group. "It has been brought to my attention that the PERSONAL relationship between Colonel MacKenzie and myself has become subject for the office gossip mill - again. I am requesting that the gossip stop right here and now. There is not now, nor has there ever been and I am confident in saying there never will be anything more than a platonic professional relationship between the Colonel and me."

There was dead silence.

Harm continued. "While some of you may find this hard to believe given the length of time we have known each other, the history of public animosity between us, and the apparent closeness we demonstrate on occasion, but trust me when I say that it is true. Colonel MacKenzie and I are in no way intimately involved and never will be."

Again, stunned embarrassment.

He turned to Mac. "Is there anything you would like to add, Colonel?"

She looked shamed and shook her head.

He turned back to the group. "Again I request that the rumors, speculation and gossip cease and desist immediately. Thank you all for your attention – please – as you were." He turned to Mac. The coldness in his eyes froze her to the bone. "There, that ought to set them straight - - - it certainly cleared up any confusion that I still had." He strode back down to his office and closed the door decisively.

Mac held the rage and the tears tightly in check. She glanced around the room, shook her head and averted her eyes. She retreated to her own office.

Minutes later, Coates stepped up to Harm's office. She knocked and waited, knocked and waited again. The third time she knocked he opened the door and started to walk past her.

"Commander."

"What can I do for you Coates?" He was still pissed off.

She whispered. "The admiral would like a word with you."

Harm rolled his eyes. "Thank you."

He tossed his brief case and cover back on his desk and went to the admiral's office. He knocked and entered.

"Reporting as ordered, sir."

"Rabb, what are you doing right now?"

"On my way to the law library, sir."

"Have a drink with me."

"Sir?"

"Have a drink with me."

"Yes, sir."

**1810 EST – McMurphy's **

"Harm, I am not your commanding officer at the moment."

"Sir?"

"What is going on between you and the colonel?"

"Nothing – I thought I made that perfectly clear."

"Well, that is part of the reason why I asked you here – that announcement was probably the rudest display I have ever seen from you – and that is saying a lot."

"I may have overreacted."

"An understatement, commander."

"I was responding to a request from the colonel."

"She asked you to publicly embarrass her, yourself and the entire staff?"

"No sir, she asked me to correct the impression that we were more than friends."

"I see. That brings me to another point. Why aren't you?"

"Sir, I am not sure that - ."

"She is a beautiful woman."

"Admiral, I don't feel that -."

"She is smart, loyal with a good heart and can be fun at times, from what I hear. You have a lot in common."

"Well, sir. I think you hit the nail on the head. We have all too much in common."

"Pig headedness, egos to fill a football stadium and the unwillingness to be wrong."

"Among other things. It was decided that it would not work out between us."

"Did you have input in the decision?"

Harm thought for a moment. "My first reaction is to say 'no' but if I am being honest with you, I would have to say that I didn't argue it."

"Yet you are still acting like a spurned lover."

"That was not my intention when I came back to JAG." He defended. "And not for the past several weeks."

"No, that is true. The natives have been calm lately." He sat for a moment. "What happened in Paraguay?"

"Nothing sir."

"You risk your career and your life and she ends up with Webb – now you are telling me it was nothing."

"Sir, the timing has never been right – and it never will be – and I think the colonel needs to take her share of that responsibility."

"I am confident she does."

"Since coming back to JAG I have made a very concerted effort to treat her as a colleague and as a friend with no animosity for – "

"I understand. So what happened this time?"

"I am not sure, sir. We were finding a friendship again."

"That little paintball event?"

"Yes sir. I thought things were fine. We actually were having fun – as friends."

"What happened?"

"She is a woman sir. How the hell am I supposed to know? She went off on me for something I did – or didn't do – and I overreacted."

"Well, Harm." The admiral saw over his shoulder that Mac had arrived. He had asked Coates to send her over. "I think you two need to hash this out and put it to rest once and for all."

"Sir?"

"I don't want to have to separate you – but I can't allow you two to disrupt the office anymore. This is not high school." The admiral stood as Mac approached. Harm looked over his shoulder and realized that he had been set up.

"Admiral, you wanted to see me?" Said Mac.

"Mac, as your friend and NOT your commanding officer, I would like you and the commander to find a way to work together without dragging the rest of us through the fall out." Mac looked at Harm. "If you both will excuse me."

Mac stood for a moment, not sure what she wanted to do. Harm stood, ordered her a soda water and directed her to a booth in the back. He followed with the drinks.

He sat for a moment, trying to find the right words. "I'm sorry, Mac. That was uncalled for."

"Do you take delight in embarrassing me?"

"No, it was no fun at all." He took a moment. Then looked at her directly. "So, what happened?"

"You tell me."

"I am talking about before that. We were fine – I thought."

Mac finally owned the portion of the incident that she played. "We were." She took a deep breath. "I am not sure. The boundaries have always been a little fuzzy with you and when I saw them graying out again – I guess I panicked – got mad."

"Why?"

"I don't know." She looked down. "No – I do know. I know exactly why. You stir up feelings in me that I know I am not supposed to have."

"What does that mean?"

"Having people assume something about me and you - ."

"Made you mad?"

"Harm, it will not work between us."

"You keep saying that, yet you are the one that keeps running us into the ditch."

"I know." She laughed. "Harm, by all rights we should be together – you can ask anyone."

"I don't get it then."

"I would be a fool not to be in love with you."

"Never thought of you as foolish." He grinned.

"You are smart, kind, generous and sexy as hell – when you want to be."

"Really – you think I am sexy?"

"When you are not being arrogant, pigheaded and an adolescent jerk."

"Which you must own I have not been recently."

"I have noticed." She paused.

"You don't seem pleased with the change."

"It was not real – it was not you – it was not us."

"It was kinda flat at that."

She smiled at him. "I know you Harm. I know you would walk through fire for me."

"I would and have."

"And I would do the same for you." She shook her head. "We work on paper, but some how we just don't in the real world."

"Bad timing?"

"No, I think it is more than that. I think that sometimes it is better to leave well enough alone."

"I still don't get it."

"What is best about the two of us – our relationship is that we bring out the best -."

"And worst."

"And worst in each other. But we do that by being locked in this no holds barred eternal competition with each other – in a courtroom, on a battlefield, where ever. Even when we are on the same side we are competing."

"No holds barred?" He asked.

"Yes, that kind of competition does not work in -."

"The bedroom?" He grinned.

"A more intimate relationship."

"That old WHO's ON TOP argument."

"Yes. Too much damage can be inflicted – unrecoverable damage."

"Someone has to give and some one has to receive."

"Some one has to lead, and someone has to follow. Just because I am the girl, doesn't mean I want to follow – at least not all the time."

He had so many comebacks to that line, there was no way to pick just one. He let them all drop, "So what you are saying is that the competition is all that is good about us?"

"Not all – but 90. We can't take that away."

"-- As evidenced by the last couple of weeks."

"Can you honestly see us trying to make a life like Bud and Harriet?"

"Nothing wrong with that life."

"No, no there isn't. I envy them and I hope one day we each will have a little piece of what they have, but it won't be together. You can't be Bud and I can't be Harriett."

"How about if I'm Harriett and you're Bud." He laughed. "OK, I will stipulate on this one point."

"So – if we agree on this – can we also agree that this platonic, casual office friendship nonsense is just that – nonsense?"

"Really?"

"I miss you Harm. I miss the banter and the fights. I miss the challenge you used to represent."

"I do too." He laughed. "Being nice to you is really hard work with no pay off."

"Must have bit clean through your tongue." She smiled.

"I am not sure I can go back though, Mac." He looked at her sincerely.

"Why?"

"Because I am fighting the injustice of it all - and, I guessing that I will take it out on you."

"The injustice?"

"Mac, I would be a fool not to be in love with you too. And I am not a fool; I am just a man who wants it all. If you let me get back on that fence - - - I am going to want it all. Never taken well to being told I can't have what I want."

"I know that."

"Look Mac, you say we can't be together and there is a part of me that accepts that – for now. But you can't make me believe that I have to give up, let go or walk away. And watering down my feelings for you so we can have an 'acceptable' relationship is clearly not the answer. That would be worse than giving up the TOP position."

"I know."

"I have said it before, Mac. I don't want to lose you."

"You don't have to worry about that."

"No, I do. I do worry. Someday you could fall in love with someone else – but there is nothing I can do about that now."

She looked down. She was not going to fall in love with someone else. Harm – for good and bad – was the man in her life and someday, somewhere, some how they would each put down their weapons, and rescue each other. But until then . . .

"So, what do we do?" She asked.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing – but maybe we should try to leave the admiral and others out of it."

"How?"

"Keep it out of the office." He smiled a sly smile. "Barring the obvious way, maybe we need to find other ways to vent our --- "

"Aggression?" She stood up and reached her hand out to him. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Racing."

"Racing?"

"Motorcycles."

"Motorcycles?"

"I saw that cruiser of yours – need to show you how it's really done."

"You don't stand a chance against me." He goaded.

"You know that I have done this before too."

Harm made a talking motion with his hand. "Yeah, yeah, yeah … put your money where you mouth is, marine."

"You still owe me a dinner."

"Double or nothing."

"You're on."

They started to walk out of the bar. When they got to the door, Mac held it open for him. They were framed in the doorway. Harm put his hand to her cheek and caressed it. He leaned down and gave her a soft kiss.

She smiled up at him. "That kind of distraction is not allowed, commander."

"No holds barred, marine."

They left arm in arm.


End file.
